The power of a random sound and the art of growing up.

I heard something. The sound of the heavy fan that starts after 4 hrs of power cut late in the night or early in the morning in Allahabad.( AAIDU campus, A sprawling airy 4 bedded Room No:12, Old Hostel, 2003) There is happiness all around the sleeping hostel at the sound of the fan. The subconscious goes delirious. Every sleeping Aggie lets out a smile just like he did when he was an infant. Little does it know that the happiness is short lived. The agonising reduction in the intensity of the fan’s sound in a few moments suggested a power cut again. Subconsciously every heart crumbles and mumbles some (not so) pleasantries with darkness.

I heard something. The sound of a heavy fan that starts after 4 hrs of power cut late in the night or early in the morning in Allahabad. (AAIDU campus, a small, stinky, closed 2 bedded Room No: 100, New Hostel, 2007). Then supposedly, there was a power cut again, (I didn’t know). There was subdued derision of the obvious mishap, the power cut, the anopheles jazz, the smell of the sweaty achievements and the burden of the worldly existence. There was monotony, the monotony of silence and the monotony of calmness. The Aggies have now learnt to understand reality even in their sleep. Little does this event of power restoration matter to them. They have learnt to be happy in their subconscious minds and sleep on with angelic nonchalance come what trouble..